


Carry On, Captain

by cap_and_cyborg



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Crack, Merry and Pippin are little shits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 20:59:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17231099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cap_and_cyborg/pseuds/cap_and_cyborg
Summary: Merry and Pippin are bored and don't want to walk anymore.  Boromir helps... sort of.





	Carry On, Captain

When Pippin agreed to come on this quest thing, he didn’t think there would be so much walking involved.  It was easy enough to look at a map and see one place and another, but it was quite a different thing to get between the two on foot.

 

Quite plainly, he was bored.  So was Merry. And as everyone in the Shire had found out at one point or another, when Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck have nothing to preoccupy themselves with, trouble arises.

 

Or at least, mischief.

 

They were near the end of the company, only one person behind them, watching their backs.  Without the watchful eye of Gandalf boring down upon them, it was easier to approach their target.

 

“Boromir, did you know that Pippin is a prince back home?  His da’s the Thain of the Shire,” Merry said.

 

“Indeed?  Something we have in common.  My father is the Steward of Gondor, making me the Steward-prince,” Boromir replied.

 

“Betcha didn’t have to do what my da did to get the title,” Pippin said, shooting Merry a look to let him know that the game was on.

 

“Oh?  And what was that?”

 

“He had to carry a Hobbit from one side of Hobbiton to the other.  To show he could carry them and their problems, ya know? It’s symbolic,” Pippin continued, nodding at his words like he hadn’t made up all of that on the spot.

 

“Did your da have to do that?” Merry asked Boromir.

 

“No, no he didn’t.  He inherited the title from my grandfather,” Boromir replied.

 

Merry and Pippin side eyed each other, then nodded.  “Well, seems to me you need to earn you position the way the Thain's do in the Shire.”

 

Boromir looked at them quizzically.  “What do you wish for me to do?”

 

“You’ve gotta carry us!  Probably both of me and Merry, seeing as you’re bigger than my da.  To make it fair, you know?” Pippin said, smiling at him.

 

Of course, this ruse had nothing to do with the fact that neither him nor Merry really wanted to walk anymore.  Definitely not. They weren’t being lazy, they were being inventive. Innovative. Ingenious.

 

At least, that would be what they told Gandalf when he inevitably gave them the disapproving look that they both knew was coming. 

 

“Very well.  How long must I carry you?”

 

“We’ll be able to tell when enough distance has gone by to be the same as Hobbiton,” Merry said, lying through his teeth.

 

“Yeah, we’ll tell you when the time comes,” Pippin chimed in.

 

“How is the Hobbit carried by the Thain in the Shire?” Boromir asked.

 

“Well, usually in his arms, but seeing as there is two of us, maybe we can change that so that you have one of us under each arm?” Merry suggested.

 

“Do you think you can do that?” Pippin said, though he knew Boromir could.  At this point, he was just goading him on.

 

“Of course.  I would like to be worthy of my standing in the eyes of you Hobbits.  I would hate to let you down,” Boromir said.

 

Pippin and Merry exchanged a look.  They felt almost bad for deceiving Boromir this way, but they were tired, so they didn’t say anything.

 

“Well, we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” Pippin said.

 

“Very well, come here,” Boromir said, holding out his arms.  

 

Once he had hoisted them up, Pippin realized they might have made a mistake.  There was a large difference between the Thain of the Shire and the Captain of the White Tower, especially in body mass.  And muscle. And the amount of armour they wore. And weapons.

 

One of the handles of Boromir’s knives was digging into Pippin’s side and as much as he tried to subtly wiggle to dislodge it from his ribs, it wouldn’t budge.

 

“Are you alright, Master Hobbit?” Boromir asked.  

 

“Fine, fine.  Carry on.”

 

_ Focus on how you’re not walking right now _ , Pippin encouraged himself.   _ Don’t focus on the pommel grinding into your spleen.   _

 

They continued for a while longer before Pippin looked over at Merry and realized he wasn’t looking like he was enjoying this any more than he was.  In fact, he had a strange green tinge to his face.

 

“Well, I think that that’s about the same distance from one side of Hobbiton to the other,” he said cheerfully, and Merry sent him a grateful look.

 

“Oh, I think it’s a little further, if memory serves,” a voice came from ahead of them.

 

Pippin froze and shared a look of resignation with Merry before turning to see Gandalf standing there, looking at them with that look, the look they knew they would get before.

 

It had seemed so worth it before.  Now, not so much.

 

“Well, if Gandalf says so, it must be true,” Boromir said.

 

Pippin looked up at him, eyes narrowed, only to now notice the mirth hiding in his eyes.

 

“You knew?!” he accused.

 

“Gandalf warned us of your tricks.  Though this one seemed mostly harmless, so I didn’t mind you thinking you had succeeded.  Shall we continue?” Boromir asked, smiling down at them.

 

Merry went limp on the other side of Boromir and then looked over at Pippin.  “We probably deserve this,” he said.

 

Pippin slumped as well.  “Fine. Carry on, Steward-prince.  We have places to be.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first Lord of the Rings fic for a friend for Christmas. Enjoy!


End file.
